


adrift.

by EternalMist



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoiler for Act 8, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28774668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalMist/pseuds/EternalMist
Summary: Azuma thinks he is a wanderer without a destination; a breeze of wind without direction; a voyage in empty oceans and no haven.And Guy is there to remind him, that he has found his harbour.
Relationships: Guy/Yukishiro Azuma
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	adrift.

**Author's Note:**

> _bursts door open_ azuguy nation how are you doing in this holy month of our lovely roomates? i hope you are all in a fine condition, and if you are not, i hope you can punch whatever and whoever makes you feel that way. also, happy new year! very belated one might say but anyway. i suppose this fic is my birthday present for guy and my offering for azuma so his glitter will come home before his actual birthday... enough with my unnecessary ramblings and as per usual, not beta read so i apologizes beforehand. i hope you all have a lovely day! _yeets myself out_

It is a breeze of winter wind. As if biting his skin, it makes Azuma tighten his jacket. Just now that he realizes it was maybe not a wise choice in times like this to visit his old house. Well, it isn't a house anymore, though—just an empty plot. Which he thought has nothing left behind.

He was wrong. Visiting it last time in autumn, together with the winter troupe, made him realize. Maybe it's just the faintest bit of voices. Or traces of the warmth that somehow still lingers between his fingers, even after many years. Or the vague apparition, played at the back of his head, like a broken film reels. Showing him the desire. To once again look at his family, that was already long gone, and could never come back.

Azuma can't see his own eyes, but he feels them wet, trembling, trying to hold back tears. He was supposed to be used with this—with the loss, but he knows very well. Time might heal wounds, but scars never disappear.

He was scared. He _is_ scared. Why is he here again, anyway? Ah, right. His impulses just told him to visit this place once again. Azuma laughs it off inside his head, almost ironically. It is weird, blaming something on his impulses. When it is just his selfish desire coming from the bottom of his heart. But at what cost. At what cost he has to face the same old scars. It terrifies him. A lot.

Azuma knows he is a wanderer; sailing through many seas, many oceans, but never stays at one. More like never found one place to say. Because it feels heavy, it feels strange. It wasn't his, not like he ever had one since a long time ago. None of them felt like a safe harbor for him.

Or he thought so, until he met the Winter Troupe. The encounter made him think that maybe, after many years of endless sailing, many years of solitude; of empty spaces, he can find one that actually belongs to him. Homare once said they are people bound by destiny, after all.

So, why does it still hurt the same way as it was? Like the first time when the news finally got to him, relayed from his far relatives he could now barely remember.

_Like the first time he celebrated an empty birthday of his the next week after that._

What if one day he loses them, too? He knows separation is an inevitable thing that comes along with an encounter. Eternity is nothing but a sole elusive, distant wish at the most, human will hope. Azuma knows that too well, for he had lost a lot before. And nothing will change in the future as well.

Azuma takes a long, cold breath. He closes his eyes, biting the almost-dry, frozen lips.

A hand intertwines itself with his. A familiar palm, Azuma has held it million times. It is warm, among the freezing winters. Azuma holds it tight, as if he is afraid of losing for once again. Guy doesn't say anything. He just holds his hand, as if knowing he needs to drift off the negative feelings. He needs someone to remind him that he is not alone to face this anymore.

"Sorry for dragging you into this matter again," Azuma smiles apologetically.

Guy shakes his head, "It is my choice. If you ask the others, I'm sure they would have come with you without hesitation as well."

"Mhm, what a very winter troupe-like." Azuma chuckles.

It is silence again that fills the air. They should've not stand any longer outside the crispy winter, anyway. It doesn't snow that heavy, but any sane person would stay locked inside their warm _kotatsu_ or in front of a fireplace. Azuma just acknowledges that perhaps he isn't the sanest person out there.

He takes something out of his pocket. The same old keys that used to belong to his house. He still keeps it after hearing Syu's words. Trying to get a sense of memories he's been burying deep, deep inside. Now it strangely feels like nothing. But he couldn't bring himself to throw it out. What a weird feeling.

Azuma takes another deep breath. Closing his eyes, silently praying to the gods. He promises he will come back here, sometimes later along the way. In another day, or month, or year.

"Should we go home?" Azuma leads them to where they park Tasuku's car. Oh goodness, they will have to explain later about the snow piling on it. Well, later is later.

"If you want." Guy follows him, one hand tapping the keycar button.

Engine is started, heater is turned on. They wait for a while for the snow to melt a little bit before continuing their journey home. Such a silly realization that they probably should have went inside minutes ago rather than standing under the freezing snow.

It is a quiet drive. Azuma only gazes outside the window, admiring the pretty sight of white and light there. He always liked sitting in the passenger seat, though he can drive if he wants to.

Their hands unconsciously are still holding each other, with Guy steering the wheel with his right hand. None of them seems to want to let go. It just feels right, Azuma thinks. And they keep it until they reach the dorm back.

The dorm is of course already dim. It is past midnight, after all. They have yet to ask Sakyo for permission but maybe he will understand. If he doesn't, some sake will do just fine.

Changing into pajamas, they climb onto Guy's bed this time. It has become their habit since the 7th play, in which sometimes they will sleep on the same bed. They switch turns every few days. It just seems to ease Azuma and the constant appearance of his nightmares.

"Did you buy a new incense, Guy?" Azuma smells a new scent from the fabric of Guy's blanket. A very cinnamon-like, but not overwhelming, with a hint of jasmine. He likes it.

"No, this is an old one I used to have back in Zahra. Turns out I still have a few left."

"Hee, I would like to have some."

Those emerald are looking fondly into his yellow. Guy smiles a little. "I shall bring you to the shop when we visit Zahra again."

"Fufu, I can't wait."

Azuma snuggles closer to him. And with Guy's hand embracing him in warmth, they both drift off to sleep.

* * *

"Do you still keep those keys to your old house?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Nothing. Perhaps you can keep that aside as a memento. If you want, you can use a new one."

"A new one? Whose?"

"Ours."

"... I will kiss you tomorrow if you go to sleep now."

"As you wish."


End file.
